


Hanging off the Hinges

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: SnK Modern A/B/O [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5251280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t like Jean didn’t want to have a family one day because he did. Kind of. In a far off abstract ‘one day’ kind of way. After school, after he found the right person, after he was settled down...all that stuff. But one stupid party, one freckled alpha, and one little purple plus sign change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This House is Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Surly omega Jean is my crack. I do have some other fics I should be attending to but inspiration for this fandom comes and goes and I just try to keep up.
> 
> Warnings: ABO, MPreg, sex, smut, frank discussions of abortion, teen pregnancy, poor decision making, age gaps (but not a big one.)

 

Jean stared at the thing in his hands unblinkingly and swallowed thickly. His thoughts were frantic and barely formed, buzzing around in his head like so much static. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t see anything past the plastic stick in his hand and the small purple plus sign taunting him in the oval window. 

How could one simple, thin little piece of plastic feel like the end of the world? Was this really happening? Like this?

It couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t possibly mean what it was supposed to mean. Yes, he’d checked the box and then checked the sheet of paper in the box over and over to be sure and yes, the purple symbol was dark and clear, leaving little to the imagination but. 

But

It had to be wrong. 

He couldn’t. 

It wasn’t...couldn’t be possible. 

It had only been one night and he knew that didn’t matter, he really did, he wasn’t stupid and he knew knew how babies happened but...one night. He hadn't been in heat or anything. Close, maybe, but not actually in heat and male omegas were only supposed to get pregnant when they were in heat, right?

Wasn't that what he'd learned in health class?

Besides they’d used protection. There was just no way. It couldn't.

But

He closed his hand around the stick reflexively. 

He’d been drunk and needy and he’d lost his head. He wasn’t normally like that, wasn’t one of those omegas who got a hit of alpha in their nose and lost their shit. He had alpha friends (okay, fine, he had a alpha friend in Annie but it still counted), had been around them when they were sweaty or close to rut, when their scents were stronger than usual, and he’d noticed, yes, but nothing more than that. 

He never lost it, not even when he was in heat. He took his suppressants, which dulled the symptoms considerably, and went about his life as if his heat cycles weren’t nearly as big a pain in the ass as they actually were. He didn’t become some submissive mewling cockslut who begged for their alpha’s knot, not that there was anything wrong with that if that was what a person was into because he also wasn't into being super judgemental, but that just wasn’t Jean. 

He wasn’t about to go so far as to claim he was some kind of logical clear headed machine or anything, because by all accounts he was quick tempered, foul mouthed, and prone to speaking and acting before he thought but when it came to letting his...inherent omega-ness or whatever run him it just didn’t happen.

He didn’t even fuck alphas. He made friends with them sure but there was a certain arrogance, a kind of ‘better than you’ smug pushiness to most alphas, and Jean was pushy enough for three or four people. He didn’t need that in a relationship or even a quick fuck. Jean liked control and that was something much easier to keep with betas and other omegas. He’d never bottomed for anyone (unless himself while in heat counted and he was pretty sure it didn’t.). He’d considered it with a beta guy he’d fooled around with a few times but in the end it hadn’t gone that way and it wasn’t like he’d mourned the opportunity. 

But all of that had gone out the window at that stupid fucking party that he honestly shouldn't have even been at anyway because school was starting in a few days and he had stuff to do. He’d let Annie drag him out to the party, a ‘End of Summer’ thing thrown by some alpha friend of hers from work whose name he either hadn't gotten or didn't remember, and after a drink gave way to a game of beer pong which gave way to shots he’d been...tipsy. 

Drunk.

All the loud voices and music had been making his head pound and he'd been feeling strangely keyed up and jittery, which was the opposite of how alcohol usually made him feel. Jean remembered scenting people, so many strangers crammed together and sweating, and feeling dizzy. He'd decided to wander out to the back porch, in need of some air and a reprove from all that noise and...everything. and maybe to have a smoke.

He’d all but tripped over someone already sitting back there. 

One minute he’d been tipping over and the next he’d been caught by firm arms and staring into brown eyes and inhaling a scent like honey and warmth and then he’d been lost. He wasn’t sure what had happened exactly when he’d looked back on it. A breathless exchange of names, some laughter and maybe he’d been more tactile than he usually was, leaning against and touching the other man when normally he liked his space.

More beers and then a kiss. A really nice kiss, a little awkward and giggly at first but melting into something that made him feel lightheaded and breathless.

More kisses and touching, petting, laughing. He’d ended up crowded against the alpha, straddling his hips and burying his fingers into dark hair. One of Marco’s hands, large hands and long nimble fingers that made a warmth coil low in his stomach just at the sight of them, had found it’s way down the back of his pants.

He probably should have been embarrassed because he’d already been wet, slick leaking down the crack of his ass and making a mess of everything. It happened; he was an omega and it came with arousal but not usually like that and sure as hell not from making out. It was something the suppressants were supposed to keep to a minimum along with the enhanced sense of smell and all that other stupid shit. 

Marco’s fingers had swept over his ass, digging into the curve and then dipping down and between. Jean had known the instant the alpha had felt the slick, had known how wet he was, because Marco had breathed out a stuttered groan, an almost broken noise, into the air between them. 

The noise had sunk into Jean’s head, chasing away any bit of shame there might have been, made him flush and rock forward as his thoughts narrowed down to want and need. 

There had been something good and powerful, on a deep visceral level he hadn’t known even existed, about that sound and the feeling of Marco’s clothed erection rubbing against him and knowing that he had caused that reaction in the alpha. 

Marco had shuddered under him, hips jerking up to seek more contact and then he’d been leaning in, dipping his head so his mouth was against Jean’s neck. Hot wet breath had ghosted over his scent gland and the world had gone hazy for a moment when Marco first licked then sucked at the spot. He'd moaned for more, tilted his head to give Marco better access without realizing he was doing it, and maybe lost his mind because he'd wanted the alpha even closer, to feel him all over, inside, and he knew better.

A heated question about going downstairs had been whispered into his skin and he’d readily agreed. 

\--

4 weeks prior 

 

They were past foreplay, past talking, and way past thinking; Jean was fine with that.Once the basement door was locked behind them and they were down the stairs they were coming together again, bodies twisting around each other. He tipped his head up, accepting Marco’s mouth as it crushed against his own, only breaking contact for his shirts to be dragged off and promptly forgotten about. 

He barely realized they were moving, him being pushed towards something. His belt was undone and his jeans opened up and pressed down, hindering him a little bit. Marco’s hand swept down his back and grabbed his ass, squeezing and kneading eagerly.

Jean fell onto a couch, a well worn threadbare thing, rather unceremoniously, knees hitting the edge and ankles tangled in his pants, but he was hot and gasping for air and past caring about looking stupid. He was drunk and he knew it; every movement felt slow and disconnected, like his body was just a few beats too slow.

It didn’t matter though. 

He felt like he was on fire, skin radiating heat and warmth blazing in his stomach. He was hard and sloppy wet, slick forming a tickling trail on the inside of this thigh, and Marco smelled like something he wanted in his mouth. Every kiss and touch had him smoldering.  

He wanted it, wanted this alpha, needed him so badly it was making his head spin. Thinking was hard and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like where his brain was trying to wander off to anyway. He wanted to be in this moment. 

Marco yanked at his pants then tossed them somewhere, hopefully close to wherever his button down and t-shirt had ended up, then followed him onto the couch, stretching out over him and nudging his legs apart to settle on his knees between them. He was heavy and warm and his mouth tasted like beer and citrus when he licked his way back into Jean’s mouth. Jean brought his knees up and hooked his legs around Marco’s thighs. 

Marco wasn’t that much bigger than him, though a little broader, thicker in a way that made Jean’s mouth water and something in the back of his mind hum its approval, in build and there was something...very good about having the alpha over him. The way he was pressing down against him, clothed erection brushing over him, the way his body forced his legs apart to accommodate him; it all made Jean lightheaded. 

Marco’s shirt was gone, lost somewhere between the top of the stairs and the couch, exposing long spans of tanned and freckled covered skin; Jean moved his hands over warm skin, sighing softly before moving them down. He worked his hands between them and managed to focus just enough to pop the buttons and pull the zipper doen. He fumbled a bit when Marco’s teeth found his bottom lip, nibbling gently as he ground down against Jean. He slurred out a noise into Marco’s mouth as liquid pleasure pooled inside of him. 

Yeah.

This was...it was. Really.

More. He needed more.

He pushed Marco’s pants and briefs down some, just enough to get at what he wanted. He sought his prize with his hand first, wrapping it around Marco's cock and earning a breathy moan from the alpha, then with his eyes. He was hard and warm in his hand, the head flushed an angry purple, and pre-come was beading from the tip. It was long and thick, twitching as he ran his hand up the shaft and

Oh. 

He went still, the reality of the situation sinking in for one perfectly clear moment. Hr was absolutely about to get fucked and not just that but fucked drunk and messy in some basement by an alpha he didn’t know, and he was fine with that.

More than fine. He wanted it like he couldn't remember ever wanting anything having to do with sex before.  

His insides clenched, a knot forming in his gut, and he exhaled shakily before biting his lip. Marco made a noise, something low like a growl and when Jean’s eyes flicked up to look at the alpha’s face and found eyes blown wide and so dark they were nearly black focused on his lips. Marco was flushed, lips kiss swollen and parted to let out little panting breathes. 

“Jean.” His voice was low and throaty and it did  _ things _ to Jean. Made him want to tip his head back and bare his throat and give in to anything Marco might ask of him. 

They stared at each other, breathing shallowly, neither moving for what felt like a painfully long time.

He wasn't sure which one of them moved first, or maybe it was both of them, but things became a hazy heated mess of wet open mouthed biting kisses, sliding along his lips and neck and collarbone, down to his chest and anywhere else Marco could reach after that. He melted under the onslaught, worry wavering under waves of pleasure and the heavy scent of Marco in the air. His body responded on instinct, relaxing as legs drew up and spread to aid the press of fingers into a place only Jean himself had ever touched before. 

Two fingers sank in with only a little resistance, Jean more than wet enough to ease the way. It was a little discomfort but not much. Marco’s fingers were longer and thicker than his were, reaching further and pressing deeper than he'd ever managed on his own. There was a twist and a curling of fingers inside of him and in the same breath Marco’s teeth found one his nipples and bit down lightly. The sensations had him arching up as his hands scrambling for purchase on the couch. 

Marco hummed appreciatively, looking up at Jean through his lashes, and Jean could feel his lips curving upwards. His hands ended up on Marco’s shoulders, holding tight as fingers moved in and out of him, spreading apart to stretch him and the alpha's mouth continued to nip and suck at him. It was different for him, being the one paid attention to and slowly undone by someone else but he felt like he wanted Marco to keep touching him forever.

Marco said his name again, sighed it quietly into the skin he was leaving soon to be overlapping bruises on. “You look so...pretty, like this.” 

He was already flushed, skin burning, and it was such a stupid thing to say considering he was already on his back with his legs spread and Marco's fingers inside of him and that there was nothing pretty about him even when he wasn't a sweaty mess but Jean felt his face grow even warmer anyway. It must have been the alcohol in his system, making him feel...different. More at ease, more willing to be exposed. Something told him it was okay to let this alpha see him like this, losing himself and barely able to think straight.

He opened his mouth as he squeezed Marco’s shoulders, wanted to show him how good he was feeling, to say something but all that came out was a sharp intake of breath and a curse as Marco’s stroked at the most sensitive spot inside of him. He threw his head back and unthinkingly pressed down onto the fingers in him.

“Oh. Oh.” Marco drew away some and blinked down at him as his fingers slipped out. Jean shook his head in protest, lifted his hips in an attempt to make Marco understand what he needed. “You are so-”

Whatever he was doing to say dropped away as he blinked again. A hand wrapped around and then under hip, slippery fingers gliding over his skin and he was angled just so. There was a shift that brought something wide and blunt against his entrance. Marco’s cockhead rubbed against him, just a teasing slide at first, and then a hint of pressure. 

Jean wanted to settle back and just let it happen; he was wound up, hornier than he could ever remember being, but an intrusive and niggling thought took hold. 

“Condom!” He ground out, putting a hand on Marco’s chest to halt his progress. 

Marco went still. His eyes narrowed, something dark flickering in the brown depths then widened, the haze in them receding some. 

“Are you-” He didn't finish the thought but Jean knew what he wanted to know: was he in heat? 

“No heat.” Jean said, fighting with himself and his words. “Just-”

“No, it’s. Yeah. Better.” Marco said as he sat back on his heels and looked around the room.“But. Uh. I don’t...-” 

“Pants. Wallet.” Jean supplied. He hadn’t had sex in a while, a not since his last break up, but he did like to be prepared for ‘just in case’ moments. 

Marco scrambled away, taking his warmth and the heaviness of his scent with him. Jean let himself fall back, eyes falling shut, and reached down to take his dick in his hand. He was almost painfully hard, cockhead damp and sticky as he rubbed his thumb over it, and the touch had him hissing through his teeth and pressing up into his hand. He stroked down then back up slowly, twisting his hand at the top.  

“Omega-Beta issue?” There was an anxious slur to Marco’s voice as the couch dipped under his weight. 

Jean cracked open eye, catching the conflicted look on the alpha’s face. “Never slept with an alpha before. Wasn’t prepared.” But condoms were condoms, right? He was pretty sure they were technically all the same.

Marco’s eyes darted down to the black foil square. “Never?”

There was a strange note to his voice, something that made Jean shiver. He licked his lips, trying to place it then “You like that?” 

“What? No.” Marco said looking maybe just a little guilty. In different circumstances Jean would have laughed but, things being what they were and him really wanting to get a move on, he opted to drop his voice to a low purr he just knew would appeal to the alpha. 

“You can be the first.”  

Marco’s gaze flickered back to Jean, focusing on the hand he was dragging back up his cock again, and then he was using his teeth to rip open the condom wrapper. He rolled it down over his length and Jean watched through slitted eyes. 

Finally.

Once sheathed Marco pushed him to roll over onto his knees. Hips pulled up a little higher and then Marco was pressing forward as he guided Jean back. Jean went eagerly, spread his legs a little further then pushed into Marco, body thrumming in anticipation; there was a little resistence and then he felt his entrance opening up, stretching to accommodate, and Marco’s hips snapped forward. It was fast, hard, and all at once, pushing the air out of his lungs and making him shout as his eyes slammed shut.

Marco’s hands on him clenched tighter and an apology he could barely hear over the pounding of blood in his ears was stuttered out. He tried to remember how to breathe and just...felt.

It was..strange. A dull burn and a strange fullness, he could feel the shape and heat from Marco inside of him, smooth and slick in the condom, stretching him open and for an absurd moment he felt like he might be split in two. That passed quickly and then he was just kind of uncomfortable, stuffed full and unsure of the feeling. 

Marco didn’t move but Jean could feel him shaking minutely. His hands swept down to rub at Jean’s leg in what was probably meant to be a soothing gesture. 

“Sorry! I...are you okay?” 

Okay? Maybe. There was something satisfying to his omega hindbrain about being so open and full. This, it insisted, was what was right. Being spread and taken by an alpha who smelled like this, felt like this inside of him, against him, over him, was how it was supposed to be. He grasped onto that feeling and nodded.

“Yeah.” He said, blinking his eyes back open. “You, uh. Can move.” 

After than it was hard for him to track. Marco fucked into him, slowly and shallowly at first, working through the burn, opening him up. It helped; the discomfort was washed away as he adjusted to the feeling and became something that made him pant and squirm. There were wet obscene sucking noises everytime Marco rocked back into him, the liquid heat inside of him that had abated some at the start coming back in full force. His cock hung between his legs, drooling long threads of pre-come. 

It felt oddly good and in what felt like no time at all, but could have been forever for all he could tell in the moment, his body was moving with Marco. It knew what to do, what it wanted, and all the dirty primal omega parts of himself were a little closer to the surface, guiding him through the motions. Relax here, clench their, angle his hips just so and drop down so his face was against the couch cushions to get Marco to drag over that spot that had his toes curling. Pressure was building inside of him, somehow sweet and sharp all at once, and pulling him further out, or maybe into, himself. 

He just knew that it felt good, was getting better, and that he needed something...more. 

The pace picked up and the sounds of skin slapping against skin mingled with heavy breathing and panting. He started pushing back greedily, body seeking more, wanting Marco deeper inside, pressing back even when the alpha was pushing in. Words fell from his lips to match the actions; faster, more, harder, please please please. Marco complied, fingernails digging into his hips and forcing him to be still and then it was all hard and fast. He grunted then let out a low keening noise as his vision went fuzzy around the edges. 

The tension inside of him stretched, muscles tightening and coiled heat burning higher. He groaned into the couch, breathed in sweat and sex and  _ Marco  _ so heavy in the air he could taste the honeyed sweetness in his mouth. 

A hand on his hip loosened then slide down around his waist. Fingers wrapped around his dick and stroked, a thumb rubbing over the slit and spreading the sticky fluid there around and then down his shaft. He was torn between thrusting into the hand around him and back onto Marco’s cock and settled for just staying as he was, open and accepting of everything the alpha was giving him. 

Why had he not done this before? 

He felt something bumping against his entrance and then pressing past the sensitive ring of muscles, forcing him open a little wider. It was firm, catching on his rim when Marco dragged back out of him, added an edge of pain to the pleasure that had him clawing at the couch and moaning wetly.

Marco’s hand twisted around the head of his cock as his thumb pressed against the underside and the tension inside of him shattered, sending him tipping over the edge and whitening out his vision. Marco pressed in again and again then went still. Jean could feel him throbbing inside of him and imagined he could feel him spilling into the condom, wished it was inside of him, filling him up and where had that thought even come from, and a swelling inside of him. 

Marco swore softly then pressed against him, sweaty chest plastering against his back, and Jean’s knees gave out under the additional weight, leaving them a pile of sweaty limbs. 

There was a tug inside of him, something that had his back arching and a mewl dropping out of mouth. It was stretching him more and growing inside of him, pressing into overly sensitive muscles and making him squirm around it. The sensation went straight to his dick but was also on the edge of painful.

Marco moaned against his neck then squeezed his hip. “Don’t move. Easier if you stay put while it fills.” 

Seemed easier said than done, since Jean was the one who was being knotted and pinned in place. It got bigger, hurt more, and he felt split, not sure if he wanted to get away or push back against Marco so he could  _ feel _ it. The omega part delighted in it and it was good in a way that had electricity running up his spine but ached too. Though the dull pain lessened a little when Marco’s hips pressed tighter then ground against him. His stomach twisted up as the sensitive nerves just inside of him were rubbed.

Fucking fuck. 

His omega hindbrain would have purred and promptly nodded off if could. Fucked and knotted, it was basically a perfect situation as far as that part of him was concerned. The rest of him, which was swiftly becoming aware of the fact that he was covered in fluids and had been fucking  _ knotted _ and would be, presumably, stuck that way for a while, was less happy. 

He wanted to get mad about it but he felt strangely content, a weird glowing lazy sinking into loose and boneless limbs and a wave of tiredness trying to tug him down. And, with Marco making the barest of movements inside of him, it did...feel pretty good. Not exactly in a sex way, more a strange satisfaction that radiated through him...but in a sex way too. 

“What the fuck? Are we...tied together?” They were, obviously, but the words came bursting out anyway. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Marco said around a yawn. “That’s never really happened with another person before.” 

Jean turned his head slightly to glare at him half-heartedly. “Don’t you, I don’t know, feel it happening before it does?” 

Marco’s mouth twisted into a half-frown. “I was a little caught up.” 

“Caught up.” 

“With the sex.” Marco deadpanned before pressing his mouth to Jean’s neck. He licked over his scent gland; it was so out of place that Jean almost didn’t catch himself shifting his neck to give Marco better access. 

Almost. 

He elbowed the other man and was rewarded with a very put upon sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. Just...relax. Take a nap.” 

He didn’t see how he was supposed to take a fucking nap with someone’s dick in him like this but Marco did have a point. It was done and they just had to wait it out. 

He grumbled in irritation but was otherwise quiet as Marco continued to nuzzle and lick him. A few moments of that and then Marco wrapped an arm around him and carefully rolled them so they were on their sides, him tucked against the alpha’s chest and their legs tangled together. Flashes of pain-pleasure came with the movement and his cock jumped as a thin rivulet of fluid leaking out. Marco breathed out against his neck; Jean could feel his dick, still very hard, twitching inside of him. 

He’d heard once, from an older omega with a big mouth, that alphas and omegas could keep ‘going’ after a knot happened and that, supposedly, it was pretty fucking amazing. He’d been skeptical, unable to work out the logistics in his head since there didn’t seem to be much opportunity for movement, but he was starting to see how maybe that could work out. 

“Hey-”

“‘Sfine.” Marco mumbled into his neck. “Just gotta be still.”    

He opened his mouth again but all that came out was a face splitting yawn. Marco laughed softly as he rubbed his nose against his scent gland; Jean was only a little disgusted by how relaxed the gesture made him feel. The arm around his waist tightened fractionally and, after a moment of reaching, Marco tugged a blanket down from the back of the couch down over them. Jean considered saying something about them, or at least him, being covered in cooling sex fluids and how gross it was. But they were tied together and he was tired. Marco was warm and smelled nice, honey and sex and a little bit of Jean all muddled together. He was mouthing at his neck again and it started to get hard to keep his eyes open. 

Sleep, as it turned out, was actually possible. He dozed, a light dreamless sleep, and only roused when Marco had deflated and slipped free of him. 

“Ah. Damn.” Jean made a questioning noise. “No it’s fine it’s...OB condoms aren’t so good with knots and it’s a mess but it’s fine. You want a shower?”

Jean hummed his acceptance and let himself be tugged up and lead through the darkened basement to a bathroom. 

\---

After that they’d cleaned up, fooled around in the shower, cleaned up again before making a half-decent attempt at wiping down the couch. Then Jean had gotten dressed and headed upstairs to find Annie, leaving Marco in the basement to his own devices. He’d gotten a ‘I know what you were doing’ looks and actual teasing once they’d left to head home. 

The next day he’d been sore as hell but overall pretty damn happy with the sex. He’d managed to bust out his first alpha experience and first time being knotted all in one go, it had been way better than he’d expected when he looked at it objectively, so it had been a win all around. 

He’d been willing to chalk the whole thing up to weird pre-heat effects. His next cycle had been due a few days after the party so maybe he’d been riding high on hormones and Marco had been the right kind of alpha to make all of his shit go haywire. 

It happened sometimes, or so he heard, coming across someone who was so physically compatible that the body just kind of went crazy. Not that big a deal.

He’d told himself everything was good and just...filed it away. School had started which meant homework and working out for track in the mornings as well as working at the movie theater in the evenings. He didn’t really have time to do more than jerk off thinking about Marco a few times while he was in the shower. 

It was in the past and that was fine. Everyone was entitled to a drunken one night stand, right? 

But his heat hadn’t come. He had always been regular, like fucking clockwork, but now he was 3 weeks late and there just weren’t a lot of things that could be. He didn’t feel any differently yet, none of the symptoms that TV had taught him came with pregnancy had cropped up, but late was late. 

He looked down at the stick in his hand again.  

Late was positive. 

“Jean!” He started, eyes darting up to the closed bathroom door at the sound of his mother’s voice. “Where are you? I was thinking of ordering Korean tonight.” 

He swallowed, throat suddenly too tight and eyes burning. 

“Jean? Honey?” She was outside the bathroom and rapped gently. “You in there?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but what came out was a strangled sob. 

Oh fuck. 

He was not going to cry 

He wasn’t. 

The door creaked open slowly; he hadn’t bothered locking it. He’d been alone for one and it wasn’t like anyone would barge in unless something was wrong. It was just him, his mom, and his sister Charlotte now; his dad had bailed so many years ago Jean couldn’t even remember him ever being there. 

His mother poked her head in. She was young, relatively speaking, but her dark blond hair was touched with gray and there were lines around her eyes and mouth. She was frowning, brown eyes worried. Her gaze swept over him, checking for a sign of what was wrong, then stopped on his hand. All the color seemed to drain from her face all at once. 

“Mom. I...I’m…” he trailed off, unable to get the words out. 

“Oh Jean.” She breathed out.

And with that he was crying, hard, with broken off sobs that felt like they were stuck in his throat and tearing their way out. 

He was pregnant. Pregnant and hadn't even graduated from high school yet. 

What was he going to do?

How could he have fucked up this badly? 

 


	2. Nothing's Quite The Same Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean gets some information and makes a choice, for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Carriers: Catch all term for a pregnant person, can be alpha women, beta women, and all omegas.  
> Sires: Catch all term for the non-carrier parent. Can be all alphas and beta men.

 

Jean stepped into the small office, glancing around and taking everything in quickly. There wasn’t much to look at, a desk where a petite woman with reddish brown hair was sitting on one side and his mother was sitting on the other, cream colored walls covered in brightly colored posters, and a bookshelf crammed to near overflowing. 

The two women fell silent when he walked into the room;  the redhaired woman stood up, smiling brightly, and gestured for him to take the empty chair next to his mother. 

“Hello Jean, I’m Petra Ral.” She chirped as she sat back down. “I’m one of our reproductive services counselors here and I work specifically with teenage omegas.  While we wait for your test results to come back, I was hoping I could ask a few questions and then give you some information on what your options are. As I was telling your mother some of these questions will be of a personal nature and if you’re be more comfortable alone that’s fine.” 

He chanced a look at his mother and found her staring at him, expression unreadable. They hadn’t talked much in the past two days, other than her informing him she’d made him an appointment at a local omega clinic. He’d gone to work yesterday but otherwise had stayed in his room, avoiding everyone else, and he was missing school and track practice today.

He’d whined about that a little, which he knew wasn’t fair because his mother was missing work for this, but he didn’t understand why it wasn’t something they could have done after school. A few hours wouldn’t hurt or improve anything and missing practice on the second week back to school was just a bad look.

On top of all that Charlotte had been stomping around, annoyed because everyone was being grumpy and no one would tell her anything, all weekend. In the end his room had just been safer all around. 

His mother was upset with him; she wasn’t saying it but he could read it on her face and he couldn’t blame her. He knew better than this, knew all about being safe and taking precautions and it had all just gone out the window for drunk, heat of the moment couch sex.

His mom had been young when she’d gotten pregnant with him, barely sixteen, and she’d always been honest and open about anything they wanted to know about...well anything because of it. Her grandparents hadn’t ever talked to her about sex or protection, expecting her to just wait for marriage, and when that hadn’t happened they’d put her out of the house. After that she’d lived with her boyfriend, his father’s, family. She’d dropped out of high school because they couldn’t afford childcare, gotten married at seventeen, and had Charlotte at nineteen and then their father had left one day without a word. 

She’d told them that she thought being open was the best way to keep them from repeating the same mistakes but here they were.

“Mom?” 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to go or stay. He wasn’t sure he wanted to detail his drunken escapade in front of her but he didn’t want to be alone either. 

He was...terrified. Out in the waiting room he’d been surrounded by other omegas, some of them like him, nervously sitting next to their parents, others pale and worried, some in various stages of pregnancy and a few with children, and he’d felt like he was drowning. 

What the hell was going on? What was he supposed to be doing? 

Not once all the talks he’d ever had with his mother or in any of his health classes had anyone ever talked about what to do in this situation. Sex-ed was always cut and dry, clinical, and sort of lacking. Pregnancy was touched on briefly, as in done and over in about five minutes, and treated like something you did after school and marriage. 

What to do in case of teenage pregnancy had never been covered, beyond the clearly implied ‘don’t do that.’ And he was just a little bit past that. Or a lot past it. He wasn’t sure how to gauge that kind of thing. 

She frowned at him. “It’s up to you.”  

He looked at Ms. Ral who offered a sympathetic smile but said nothing. They were really leaving it up to him, someone who’s hardest choice so far had been which electives to take in school, to say nothing of how his decision making ability had failed him so far. 

“Stay?” 

His mother’s expression shifted, softening just a little bit, and she nodded. She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing softly. “Okay.” 

The heavy knot that had settled in his stomach two days ago loosened just a little. 

Ms. Ral nodded then picked up a clipboard that was sitting in front of her. “I understand you took a pregnancy test at home and it had a positive result. I’ll be honest with you and say that false positives are all but impossible. We’re running another test but that’s mostly for record keeping.” 

His mother sighed quietly. He bit his lip then nodded his understanding. He had been hoping that maybe, somehow, he’d been wrong or done something wrong (though ‘pee on this stick and then keep it angled downward for 90 seconds’ was pretty foolproof) But no, it didn’t look that was going to be the case.

“We’re going to proceed under the assumption that you are pregnant, okay?” She smiled again and it was so full understanding that it that he almost looked away.“You turned seventeen this year and you’re currently enrolled in school?” 

“I’m in my senior year in August. Rose High.”  

She marked something on the clipboard. “Alright. Your last heat cycle was the first week of June and your next should have been the first week of September. You’ve always been fairly regular?” He nodded. “Birth control?” 

“No.” He looked down as he said it, cringing away from what he knew was coming. 

He could see his mother going completely still out of the corner of his eye. He expected her to say something, to get angry because after his first heat one of the first things she’d done was make sure he was on birth control. She’d done the same for Charlotte, insisting it was better to be protected and not need to be than the alternative. 

He’d been on the pill but his doctor had switched him to a different kind and he’d started getting headaches so he’d stopped. The headaches had cleared up and it wasn’t like he’d been doing anything that would end up with him pregnant (right until he had been) so it hadn’t seemed like something he needed to be worried about.  

At the time it had seemed like solid enough reasoning. Now, however, it seemed like a huge glaring oversight and he couldn't understand what he’d been thinking. He should have talked to his doctor, explained what was happening, and gotten on a different pill. He’d thought about it plenty, kept meaning to do it, but it had never seemed important. 

Ms. Ral didn’t miss a beat, continuing on to her next question as if his answer wasn’t at all unusual. “Do you have an idea of when conception may have occurred? Keep in mind that you would be most fertile in the roughly three week period that includes pre-heat, during which your eggs drop, your actual heat, and the week after as hormones start to settle and unfertilized eggs prepare to be flushed from the body. There is some variance from person to person, particularly in the days following a heat as no two bodies will ‘settle’ exactly the same.”

That made him look up in shock. He hadn’t...he’d always thought it was possible to get pregnant during a heat not that there was some big nearly month long window. He was pretty sure that hadn’t been mentioned in sex ed or any of his talks with his mother. But, then again, she’d stressed the importance birth control and condoms, of safety, so maybe it hadn’t mattered.

Maybe his surprise showed on his face because Ms. Ral offered up another soft smile. “If you aren’t sure that’s fine.” 

He hesitated over his answer, wondering if maybe having his mother in the room with him had been a mistake. Her grip tightened on his hand fractionally; he wasn’t sure if it was encouragement or something else but it wasn’t as if it mattered. 

The faster he answered the sooner he could be done answering. 

“I know. It was August 30th. It was the only time I’d ever...uh.”

He didn’t finish the thought, not at all prepared to say outloud it was the only time he’d ever let someone fuck him, and wasn’t it just his luck how that had turned out?  

“Did you use any method of contraceptive?” She asked it like someone might ask him about his homework or plans for the day but it did nothing to keep a flush of embarrassed shame from rushing to his face.

“Condoms. But,” He chanced another look at his mother to find her looking at him with her brow furrowed in silent question. “I think...maybe it broke?” 

He’d thought about it and he thought he remembered Marco saying something about it. Not that it had broken, but something about a mess and the OB condoms not being made for knots. And they’d been drunk and half asleep and...maybe Marco hadn’t noticed or had seen a ‘mess’ but hadn’t really realized what it might mean. 

Just like he hadn’t realized until his head had been late. He’d known that Omega-Beta issue condoms weren’t meant to be used by alphas because of the knotting risk. In hindsight he wasn’t sure why he’d thought it was a good idea (all condoms are the same his ass) except that his priority had been less about the ‘proper’ thing and more about getting Marco’s dick inside of him at all costs. 

And it wasn’t like he’d been expecting to be knotted or anything. He hadn’t been in heat, the alpha hadn’t been in rut, and they certainly weren’t bonded and those were the standard reasons knotting occurred. Some frantic one off didn’t exactly meet those standards. 

Except maybe, now that he knew that he’d been wrong about how the whole getting knocked up thing actually worked, being in pre-heat had meet those standards. Something had happened, obviously, otherwise they wouldn’t have been where they were.

His mother twitched and looked like she wanted to say something but, in the end, she just let out a shaky breath. 

Ms. Ral nodded then set the clipboard back down. “That puts you at an estimated 4 weeks, though we’ll have a better idea when your test results come back. Now, my job here is to help people understand their options in regards to pregnancy and I won’t sugar coat or lie to you, but I also do not want to sway your opinion. No one can decide what you should do with your body except you. Not me or your mother or the sire.” 

His mind flashed briefly on Marco at the word ‘sire’ but he pushed it away just as quickly as it came up. Marco wasn’t...he wasn’t sure what Marco was. A life altering mistake at the moment but beyond that…

He wasn’t ready to label anyone anything just yet, least of all ‘Sire’ when he was still trying to wrap his mind around what was going on.

“Okay.” 

“Have you put any thought into what you’d like to do?” When he shook his head no, because he’d still been holding out hope that this wasn’t happening and actually thinking about what to do next didn’t fit with adamant denial, she nodded her understanding. “That’s okay. There’s no right or wrong way to handle this Jean and it is very important that you understand that. Now, there are, fundamentally, three options. Abortion, adoption, or continuing the pregnancy and becoming a parent. As you are, we assume, early into your pregnancy the option for medicinal abortion is still open to you. It involves taking a series of pills that induce, essentially, a miscarriage. Many people find it easier to undergo than the in-clinic process since you can do it at home and have privacy and deal with the process as you see fit. After 9 weeks the medicinal option is no longer offered, but the in-clinic procedure is viable until the end of the first trimester. Both are very safe procedures and there are pamphlets I’ll give you that give details on how they work, what to expect, and various myths you may have heard.” 

This time it was him gripping his mother’s hand, probably hard enough that it was hurting her, but all she did was rub a thumb over the back of his hand and squeeze lightly. His was starting to hurt, everything she was saying pounding around in his skull. 

He was pregnant, really honest to god pregnant, and he was being talked to about potentially getting an abortion. It felt surreal, like it had to be happening to someone else, but it wasn’t. His eyes were burning and, after all the crying he’d done alone in his room, that was the last thing he wanted now. 

He felt small. Childish. 

“Adoption is, obviously, allowing another family to raise a child. You would carry to term and then sign over your parental rights if you feel like that would be the best option for yourself and your child. It isn’t any easier a choice than the other options and, for many, giving their child up in hopes that someone else will be able to provide a life they wouldn’t be able to is the hardest thing they’ll ever do.” She paused, expression deadly serious, and looked at him as if trying to read his thoughts. “If you go through an agency you would be able to decide on a family that you think is best and there are many kinds of arrangements that can be made. Every situation is different and it is very possible to find something that will satisfy you and the sire.” 

There was that word again.

“What if,” He started then stopped, throat tightening. He swallowed around the lump trying to form and cut off his words and took a breath. “What if he-the sire- isn’t...what if I don’t know-”

“There are options for unknown or uninvolved sires. It’s something an agency would have to go over with you but it isn’t something that necessarily closes that avenue to you.” Ms. Ral didn’t so much as blink as she spoke. Jean was starting to suspect she’d heard just about everything there was to hear when it came to this sort of thing. 

“The third option is to carry to term and be a parent. I can’t say which decision is ‘harder’ or ‘easier’, but being a teen parent does come with it’s own unique challenges. Money, social shifts, time constraints, relationship issues...life completely changes. Education is also something to consider. About half of teen carriers will end up dropping out of high school and very few will go on to earn college degrees.” 

His mother shifted in her seat. He knew she’d gotten her GED in her twenties and then slogged through classes at the community college, managing to finish just before her thirtieth birthday. He and Charlotte had, essentially, caused her entire life to be put on hold. She’d spent years working long hours at a terrible customer service job and almost never doing anything for herself to take care of them. 

Could he do something like that?

“But it also isn’t a death sentence or the end of things, as some people think. In fact your school, Rose High, has a program for pregnant students to help with some of that transition as well as keeping you as on track with your standard education as possible. The dropout amongst students who choose to enter into the program is twenty percent, less than half of the city average.” Ms. Ral pushed her seat back and leaned down, reaching for something. She straightened up, a dark blue folder stuffed full with things in hand. “You’ll find a lot of information about your options in here as well as a small pamphlet about the program your school offers as well as another one in Trost you may want to consider. I’d like you to take it and read it over so you can make an informed choice.” 

He took the offered folder, a little startled at just how thick and heavy it was. How could there be so much to  He started to open it but a knock at the door drew his attention. Ms. Ral called out that it was okay to come in and the door opened. The blond nurse, Jinn according to his name tag, who’d taken his blood and had him pee in a cup earlier, was standing there. He was holding a piece of paper and, when motioned in by Ms. Ral, handed it to her. He nodded a greeting at Jean and his mother then stepped back out. 

Ms. Ral looked over the paper quickly then offered it to him. “Positive pregnancy test, HCG levels put you at 4 to 5 weeks.” 

He didn’t resist when he mother plucked the paper from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

\---

They were in the car, heading home, when his mother finally spoke to him again. He was slouched in the seat next to her, flipping through the glossy pamphlets and booklets that had been in the folder without really seeing them. There had been one about ‘the truth about abortion’ that he’d looked at before tucking it back behind everything else. 

It had been...fine, he supposed. Sanitized, clinical. What he’d looked at made it sound easy; a few pills and then it was all done and over with, neat and tidy and he wouldn’t have to worry about being pregnant anymore. No one else would even have to know about it; everything would go back to normal. 

It seemed smart. He was in high school, he worked part time at a movie theater, and didn’t even know the last name of the guy he’d slept with. He was at least a little bit of a screw up, overly fond of drinking and smoking, and he knew he didn’t have anything to offer a kid, not even a little bit, and he doubted 8 months was going to change enough of that to make raising a kid a good idea. 

But he was sure abortion wasn’t what he was going to choose. It wasn’t a moral issue or being against it; he’d never even put much thought about it one way or the other before this. It was, rather, a completely personal thing where something about the idea of it made his stomach churn sourly. 

Accident or not it, this...baby, was there now, alive and very real and part of him, and he didn’t think he could feel right about making a choice to end it. 

He wasn’t sure if that was selfish or not. 

“Are you okay?”

He blinked then turned to look at her. Most of her focus was on the road but every so often her eyes would slide towards him before snapping back to look ahead. Her expression was less pinched than it had been earlier and she looked more tired than anything else. 

He opened his mouth then shut it again, eyes falling back to the folder open in his lap. They’d left after being told a general STD panel would be run with his blood (and wasn’t that a new special level of horror to go with everything else? He’d been so caught up with the obvious that he hadn’t even considered any of the less obvious possibilities) and a reminder than it was in his best interest to make a choice as soon as he could. 

The longer he waited without knowing what he wanted to do the less options he would have in the long run and apparently if he wanted to continue the pregnancy it was in his best interest to get in contact with his doctor and start taking vitamins and eating right and stop smoking and taking his suppressants as soon as possible and if he wanted to give it up for adoption the longer he had to find a good agency and a good family the better.

It was just too much to think about along with the folder full of stuff.

How did anyone make choices with so much to consider? How was he supposed to know what was the right thing? It wasn’t like it was just his life he was trying to figure out here either, there was...this whole other thing now, who needed him to be smart and not mess this up. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Her lips quirked downward. “You don’t have to do anything today Jean.”

He snorted bitterly. “Just as soon as possible.” 

“This is...I understand, I do. You feel like your entire life is hanging in the balance and you don’t want to make the wrong choice because you might end up carrying something with your for life.” Her hands curved around the wheel, tightening. “It isn’t easy. Nothing about this is...oh.”

She exhaled loudly then reached up to rake a hand through her hair. “This isn’t something I wanted you or your sister to have to deal with.” 

He looked down at his hands, chest feeling tight. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” She said quietly. “I’m not angry with you honey, I’m just...worried about you. I want you and Charlotte to do things I didn’t, you know that. Graduate with your friends and go to college and be kids. Not to grow up fast and have to make grown up choices like I did.” 

He looked out the window for a moment, watching as the highway and other cars flashed by, to consider her words. He knew she’d had to give up a lot of things when she’d decided to keep him; school, her family, and her friends. Her entire life, really, because of him. He’d never thought about it too hard because she seemed happy, as far as he could tell anyway, and she never talked about like she wished she’d been able to do things differently.

But maybe she did. 

“Do you wish you hadn’t had us?” 

“What?!” She turned to face him, eyes wide then cursed and faced forward again. “No!” Then, quieter. “No. You and Charlotte are...I can’t even explain it to you. You aren’t just the best things I’ve ever done, you’re...everything to me. The first time I held you was...I don’t know how to put it into words. I knew, right then, that nothing could possibly be better or mean more to me or be more loved. Except your sister. Who I love equally.” 

He laughed shortly then bit it off, hands balling into fists on his lap. It wasn’t right to laugh with what they were talking about. His mom was right, it really did feel like his entire future was stretched out in front of him and he was being told to pick a path, right then and there, and that whatever path he picked would define everything else. Whatever he did nothing past that point could possibly be the same. 

Keep and raise a baby or don’t. 

Parent or not. 

He felt sick and like his head was going to explode at any moment from all of the pressure inside of it. Maybe he didn’t have to decide right now, but he felt like he had to, had to start making...plans and doing the right thing because what if something he did now ended up being a problem later? 

He knew...he knew he wanted to do the best he could with this. 

“I don’t want to have an abortion.” He blurted it out in one fast rush, words blending together in his haste. Silence followed, so thick with tension he could practically feel it against his skin, and he didn’t dare look over at her. He was afraid she’d be angry or disappointed in him. She had every right to be; he was literally doing everything she’d ever told him not to do now. 

But he knew that it was what he wanted to do. He wasn’t positive it was right in the grand scheme of things but it felt like the right thing.

“Okay. That’s...okay.” His mother said softly. Another moment of silence and then she shifted to look at him again. “You’ll need to talk to the sire.” 

That had him sitting up straight in his seat. “Wait, what? Why?” 

“Why?” She echoed, sounding bewildered. “Because it took two of you to make a baby and if you’re keeping there’s someone out there who needs to contribute just as much as you are. You...you know who the sire is, right?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t know who the sire was and had no way to contact them but the fact he wasn’t sure how true that was kept him quiet. He didn’t want to lie to his mother, especially not after she was being so calm, more or less, about the fact he was a huge fuck up, and it was wholly possible he could find Marco. If he called Annie she, or whoever’s party it had been, might have had an idea. 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain that tho. ‘Hey, Annie, you know how I wandered off to fuck some guy I don’t know? Well, surprise, I’m knocked up and my mom thinks I should call him, can you help me out with that?’

That would go pretty well. Maybe it was better to just not try.

“I can try to find him if I need to.”

If he was really being honest he didn’t want to deal with it at all. What if he tried to find him and couldn’t, how was he supposed to explain that? And he didn’t know anything about Marco, nice smell and good sex notwithstanding. What if he wanted him to get an abortion? What if he didn’t want to be involved?

What if he wanted to be involved? 

What if he had a perfectly decent life or was dating someone and had just made some stupid drunken mistake and Jean was about to ruin his life because he hadn’t realized that ‘can only get pregnant during a heat’ had a larger range than he thought?

“Jean.” That was her ‘do what I say, I’m not allowing any argument’ voice; absolutely nothing good would come from trying to talk her out of it. “Honey. It’s really for the best. This isn’t going to be easy for you and so many things will change over the next few months. This person should help you with that, especially if you want to keep the baby.”

He nodded stiffly. “Fine.”

He would just say he tried and deal with the consequences of being the guy who didn’t know who their kid’s sire was. She wouldn’t know the difference. 

“As soon as we get home.” 

Or that. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're rolling right along. Marco comes back next chapter (and is a big dork.) and we'll see how he it takes it all. I'm about 3 pages in already (it's just writing itself.) so. Yay!  
> 


	3. Your Hand Resting Next to Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco thought maybe he was going to get asked out on a date. Reactions are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: And now some much needed time with Marco and totally plot relevant flashback fluffy things. …*hangs head* Okay, not that plot relevant. Fight me :P

 

4 weeks before

 

Marco was still a little unsteady on his feet as he lead the way to the bathroom but a little bit more sober than he’d been when bringing Jean down into the basement. A good thing since he’d found that being completely wasted while trying to take a shower never quite worked out like he wanted it to. The bathroom wasn’t anything fancy, the opposite actually since it was just a toilet, a sink, and a shower stall, but considering the other full bathroom was upstairs off of his sister’s bedroom, it would have to do. 

He could hear the party still going above them, just as loud and raucous as it had been before, and was grateful for it. Jean had been a little on the loud side; in the moment he’d delighted in it, enjoyed every gasp and shout, but he was vaguely, slightly, more sober and not fond of the idea that everyone might have known what they were doing. He wasn’t sure how good the odds of not being heard were, Krista and Ymir’s place wasn’t that big and he knew from experience that the walls and floors didn’t do much to cancel out noise, but he had hope. 

The things he’d heard while spending the night were things no brother wanted to hear his sister doing. It was enough to make him seriously reconsider her offer to stay with them 

He tied off the condom then dropped it into the trash before leaning around Jean to turn on the shower. There wasn’t much space to be found in the small area, which resulted in brushing again the omega every time he moved. Jean didn’t appear to be bothered by it as he watched him through heavy lidded eyes, clearly just barely awake and fighting back a yawn.

He’d been well on his way to falling asleep on the couch when his knot had finally gone down and it had been tempting to just stay there. Being pressed up against Jean, nose against the omega’s neck, had been nicer than it had any right to be but once the tie had ended the urge to protect and care for had washed over him, spurring him out of the hazy sleepy feeling.

It was normal enough; sex followed by forming a knot and tying with a partner was supposed to wake up some of those other alpha tendencies and it was one of ‘those things’ that was easier to go along with then to try and fight. He was, honestly, doing a lot of of ‘giving in to instincts’ so far. He wasn’t sure why that was, he had always had great control of himself, but Jean...something about Jean had just torn him apart. He hadn’t been able to think clearly at all, everything focused down to the hot body under his own. He’d wanted to drive into Jean, to mark and bite and...well. All sorts of things that were pretty unacceptable considering. 

Jean wasn’t his mate or his  _ anything  _ so really biting him was out of the question; he’d settled for breathing in his scent and mouthing at his scent glands and it had sort of taken the edge off that strange itch. Going to fetch food and water and trying to bundle him up in a nest to dote over him probably weren’t going to fly either. (It would be creepy a helpful voice in his head supplied. It sounded a lot like Ymir.) A shower, however, would strike a nice balance between ‘appeasing the not-so-inner alpha’ and ‘not being weird’.  

There was a line everyone walked, where they were what they were and everyone knew they were at least a little motivated by urges and instincts and old primal echoes, but were expected to pretend otherwise for the sake of politeness. You couldn’t just sniff a per8son, tell them they smelled like they should have your children, and then bite them, after all, so a kind of equilibrium had to be found. 

Marco was, perhaps in that moment, a little more on one side of the line than he normally was, a little caught up in scents and touches, and quirks of biology. 

“Are we both going to fit in there?” Jean asked; his voice was thick and his words a touch slow, matching his sleepy expression, though it melted into something strangely nervous when Marco looked back at him. “I mean. If a group shower was what we were going on for? Conserve water and all that.” 

He ducked his head a little as he spoke and Marco’s gaze was drawn to the curve of his neck. There was something tempting about the stretch of tan and unblemished skin and the way a blush was working its way up Jean’s face. 

“I think it’ll be fine.” He said, forcing himself to look away. “Might be a tight fit though.” 

Jean’s laughter, a rough throaty noise, filled the bathroom and, after a pause, Marco laughed with him, breaking some of the tension between them.

Once the water was heated and steam was starting to fill the room he nudged Jean into the shower stall. He followed, sliding the glass door into place and then slipping around the omega to stand behind him. The shower was just barely big enough for the both of them to fit while pressed against each other from shoulder to knee. 

He found he didn’t mind the closeness and that the feeling of water slickened skin against his own certainly wasn’t something to complain about. 

The water was warm, bordering on hot, and as it rushed over them it worked to dull the sounds from the party above them. Jean leaned forward, letting the spray soak his hair and face, and his low pleased groan was borderline indecent. 

He reached around the other man, grabbing a bottle of bodywash/shampoo from shelves built into the tiled wall, and set to work. He started with Jean’s hair, spending far more time than was needed running his fingers through dark blonde hair and scraping his nails over the omega’s scalp. 

Jean practically melted under his hands, slumping back against him and making soft pleased noises that were almost purrs. Marco couldn’t help but smile, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in his chest. 

And, if he found himself down on his knees and tasting some parts of Jean he hadn’t gotten to the first time well. He probably smiled through that too. 

\---

Marco didn’t bother looking up from the game when Annie’s phone rang. The smaller alpha made a noise of annoyance then, when the ringing continued, let out an annoyed huff before dropping the game controller and lunging for her phone. Marco smirked and, while she was turned away, leveled her character with a series of punches.

“Hello?” She snapped. He could feel her glaring at him but kept his focus on emptying her health bar. Then, suddenly, her voice changed, turning sly and amused. “Oh. Hi Jean.”

There were, he thought as he jabbed the buttons just a little bit harder, probably lots of people named Jean out there. Tons, even, and any of them could have been calling. She was trying to mess with him but odds were it wasn’t actually the omega he’d met at Ymir’s party.

Or his party, supposedly, in honor of his early acceptance to his first pick college. There was, he’d pointed out, an entire school year to go and, while he certainly intended to go to Trost University since it had the best medical program on the west side of the country, anything could happen. Ymir had, of course, brushed that aside easily and gone on with her planes. He was fairly certain that it had really just been a convenient excuse because he’d barely known anyone there, Ymir, Krista, and Annie aside, but his sister had insisted (loudly) that it was absolutely a celebration for him so shut up and drink more.

She was, a month later, still all smug grins about how ‘well’ it had gone.

As if getting drunk and having sex on her ratty pull out couch, that he hadn’t even had the manners to pull out, was something he should have been happy about.

Not that he was unhappy. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it and he’d certainly given it enough thought that he should have had some kind of idea. 

The point was that he was sure Annie was just trying to get under his skin and, even if it really was that Jean, it was unlikely it was about him. He and Annie were friends (in so far as Annie was anyone’s friend and not just a specter of evil and torment) and friends talked. 

They’d had their fun, the omega had left, and that was that. 

Probably.

“Marco? Marco...oh! You mean that alpha who had you in the basement moaning like-” she trailed off into a burst of laughter. Marco threw down the controller and twisted around to glare at her. Annie flashed him one of her Mona Lisa smiles, the barest upward twitch of lips that spoke of smug mockery. “I do know him actually. His sister is actually an artist at the shop.”

He schooled his face into something he hoped was close to indifference, telling himself that he didn’t want to give her any more enjoyment than she was clearly already getting out of the situation. 

He liked Annie, for the most part. She was Ymir’s best friend (or, perhaps, only friend because his sister’s life was pretty much centered around Krista and the tattoo shop so it was hard for anything else to find a place there. Sometimes Marco though he was lucky she remembered to call him once or twice a week.) and after two years of his sister dragging Annie to family functions and her always being around he was comfortable calling her a friend. Comfortable enough to sit around with her and play games that made them both act like crazed idiots without feeling self conscious, which was pretty seriously friendship in his opinion.

But other times she was evil and took entirely too much pleasure in messing with people. 

“Can I tell him to call you?” 

He didn’t look at her but he did inclined his head a little closer, trying to hear what was being said on the other end of the line without looking like that’s what he was doing. 

He wasn’t above admitting (in his head) that the omega had taken over his thoughts once or twice, or a lot, since the party. He’d considered asking Annie about him, knowing Jean had come with her to the party, but he was pretty sure she’d never let him live getting hung up on a one night stand down.

For all the good that was doing him now. 

He wasn’t sure why it had him so distracted. Admittedly he’d never done anything like that before (according to Ymir he was doing his teenager year all wrong because of that.) but it wasn’t as if he’d never had sex or even hadn’t had sex with an omega before. He’d dated and fooled around a little, though there hadn’t been anyone that he would really consider serious. School took up a lot of time and no one liked playing second place to AP textbooks and extracurriculars. 

But this had been good, surprisingly good considering how drunk they’d both been, and Jean had certainly been attractive and appealed to him on an ‘Alpha’ level as well.

A lot, actually. The omega’s scent, dark and earthy, the way he’d sounded, the way he’d felt underneath and around him; it was all jumbled up in his head and seemed to hit everything the alpha part of him wanted. It set his teeth on edge and worried him a little just how easy it had been for the animal parts of him to rise up when he’d been with Jean.

He’d never met anyone like that before, not even close. Jean had fallen into his arms, literally, and he’d been preoccupied since, questioning the choice to just let Jean get dressed and walk away from him instead of asking for his number or...anything at all.

But that wasn’t how random hookups were supposed to work, was it? When it was done it was done, you didn’t track them down afterwards, and certainly not to tell them weird things like ‘hey, you kind of made me lose control and that never happens, we should get dinner.’

“You know what, why don’t you just come by today? Marco and his sister and her mate are hanging out for celebratory pizza and movies so he’s here just...sitting around.”

Marco jerked back, shaking his head and mouthing ‘no’. He wasn’t in any state to meet up with anyone; he’d come straight from the pool to Annie’s house and was, honestly, ‘sluming it’. Messy hair that still smelled faintly of chlorine, trackpants and a t-shirt with ‘Live Long and Proper’ scrawled over the front wasn’t how he wanted to see Jean again.

He needed actual pants at least.

He did have actual pants, the ones he’d worn to school, down in his gym bag at least but the t-shirt was a lost cause and he thought maybe keeping the ‘I’m a huge nerd’ thing underwraps was the way to go for the moment.

But it didn’t look like he was getting a choice because Annie looked like the cat who swallowed the canary. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

She tapped her phone, shutting it off. Marco slumped over onto the arm of the couch with a groan.

“Why do you hate me?”

“It’s a lifestyle choice.” She said while pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You want to play again? You’ve probably got...twenty minutes.”

He didn’t play again, opting to drag himself off the couch and take a shower and put on actual pants. It ended up being more like fifteen minutes because he was just stepping back into the living room, toweling off his hair, when the doorbell rang. Annie bounced off the couch, looking downright giddy by her standards, and scrambled for the door. She threw it open before Marco could so much as get a word out.

“Jean, hey. You must have run every red light on the way over.” She said, stepping back to let the other man in.

Marco stayed where he was, standing awkward, barefoot, and damp in the middle of the living room, and watched. Jean looked more or less the same; light brown eyes, hair on top a long ash blond pulled back into a ponytail and shorter on the sides, tight black shirt, tight jeans, and

He was staring.

And now he was blushing.

Damn it.

Jean looked at him, blinking owlishly, then looked away while licking his lips. Marco was suddenly entranced by the flash of tongue over lips and, somewhere in the not embarrassing part of his brain, wondered when he’d decided something like that was hot.

Annie rocked back on her heels, eyes bright. “I have to get Mikasa from school so you two play nice. But not too nice because I’m the only person allowed to have sex on my couch and I’ll kill you if you defile it.”

She patted Jean on the shoulder what might have passed for affectionately from someone else but only seemed to add to her threat then pushed past him and waved before stepping out. The door clicked shut after her and, if he focused, he could hear her thundering down the stairs that lead from her apartment.

Neither of them moved for a second, Jean staring intently at a spot on the floor and Marco looking at the ceiling and questioning all of his life choices, before coughing.

“You want a drink?”

Jean shook his head. “No.”

Marco nodded then inclined his head towards the couch. “You wanna sit?”

Brown eyes flicked up to meet his own then over to the couch; Jean’s cheeks pinkened and Marco didn’t need to stretch his imagination to know what he must have been thinking about. In spite of that Jean shuffled over down so Marco followed, perching on the opposite end. 

Sitting, as it turned out, did nothing to cut through the awkward tension between them; if anything it made it worse, at least for him. This close Jean’s scent was right there, more familiar than it had a right to be and just on the edge of teasing. It was lighter than it had been that night, not made stronger by sweat and arousal, but it was still more than enough to cause a warmth to curl in his gut.  

There was, he thought, an unfamiliar sweet note to it. For a moment he was tempted to lean closer, inhale deeper, chase after it, but he resisted, stamping down on the urge as hard as he could. 

That wouldn’t have been normal at all.

Marco rubbed at his eyes; unsure of what he should have been saying. Strange since he was usually really good with people, actually. He made friends everywhere he went with no trouble at all and now he couldn't manage to talk to one guy. A guy he'd already gone way past the talking phase with, which was probably what the problem was. He'd never been in a situation of trying to think up something to say to someone after he'd slept with them and then gone a month without speaking to them.

Maybe he needed a drink. He wasn’t a big drinker at all, the night of the party notwithstanding, but he was thinking a beer might help.

It had worked out well last time.

“So. Uh. How’ve you been?” He tried, wincing a little bit internally. 

Why was this so hard?

“Good. Or. Well.” Jean cringed visibly then looked around the room. “Fine, I guess. You and Annie are close?”

“She and my sister, Ymir, are friends.” Marco said, shrugging. Jean perked up at the mention of Ymir, which wasn’t that big a surprise. If he was friends with Annie it was possible he’d heard his mentioned once or twice. “I’m just tagging along for the free pizza, though I think this might be another college celebration for me. They’re milking that for all it’s worth.”

Jean’s gaze slide back to him. “You just graduated?”

Marco shook his head, silently thankful to be on something that felt like solid ground. He could talk about school for hours if given a chance. “Not yet. I’m a senior at at Jinae High but I’ve gotten early acceptance to Trost University next fall.”

“Early acceptance? That’s like...I don’t think I even know anyone who's really started applying anywhere yet.” Jean admitted haltingly. 

“That’s pretty normal, I think.” Marco said quickly. “It’s just I already know they have the a great pre-med program and their medical school is one of the best in the country and I’ve always known what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go to do it.” 

Jean’s expression had gone from curious to bewildered to faintly nauseous looking and Marco found himself thinking over what he’d said. He’d been hoping to show he wasn’t some jerk who had a problem with people who weren’t drowning themselves in accelerated and advanced placement classes like he was but maybe he’d done the opposite? 

"I just...need to say this and then I’ll get out of your hair." Jean’s voice got fainter as he spoke, becoming a near whisper by the time he was done.

Marco dropped his hand to his side and looked at the omega intently, trying to get a read on the situation. He looked nervous and unhappy, eyes downcast and posture rigid, and Marco could smell sweat in the air. Whatever he'd come over for it was probably not a date. Probably something bad. 

His mind immediately started going over a mental list of STDs and their symptoms and all the gross pictures he'd ever seen in his classes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Marco's thoughts came to a crashing halt. He opened his mouth then shut it, mind completely devoid of any manner of useful thought. It wasn’t a matter of not understanding what he’d heard because he had absolutely heard every word and understood what they meant not just individually but when put together.

He was very, alarmingly, aware of what the omega was telling him as well as the only reason he would be told such a thing, and of the way Jean was looking at him now, eyes dark and cautious like an animal who was one loud noise away from making a run for it. And yet he couldn’t come up with anything reasonable to say back.

Pregnant? He was…?

Flashes of half formed things tumbled through his mind; school, Ymir, his parents, smiling against Jean’s mouth and asking if he wanted to go downstairs and all the frenzied touches that had followed.

“You’re what?” He didn’t know what could be gained from clarification but Jean was starting to fidget and he was couldn’t help but be very aware of him. He was biting his lip while his hands curled into fists and then flattened out again over his thigh, all while watching him with an increasingly nervous expression.

“I’m pregnant.” Jean looked away from him.

Hearing it again didn’t help his brain come up with anything. If anything it just made him more panicked, added an alarming layer of finality and reality to it. He hadn’t misheard, wasn’t misunderstanding. Jean was telling him that he was pregnant. 

“Are you sure?” 

This earned him a flat look that seemed to imply, without words, that the Jean thought he’d asked something stupid. “Yes.”

Marco didn’t have any problems with kids. He liked them, a lot even, and figured Ymir and Krista would be having their own pups sooner rather than later since they had a mating ceremony planned for the spring, and he’d be able to spoil them rotten. He was looking forward to it, maybe more than the two women were. 

His own kids however? 

He’d never even thought about it, not really. He’d kind of figured a life of cats was in his future and now… He couldn’t make sense of it, even in the moment, as if his brain was rejecting the very idea. But Jean looked entirely serious, too serious if anything and that was bad. 

All of this was bad. 

Life destroyingly bad. 

“You’re sure it’s mine?” Jean’s eyebrows went up. “I...it couldn’t be someone else? We used a condom and...”

He stopped, brain catching up with his mouth and what he was saying and how it must have sounded to Jean, and there was nothing but silence and the implication of his words. He wanted to take it back if for no other reason than to do something about the shocked look on Jean’s face. 

Then Jean was moving, abruptly jumping to his feet and shaking his head. Marco stood up as well, more on reflex than anything else. Jean’s scent was a little stronger, touched with a sharp note that spoke of distress. 

Marco’s stomach rolled.  

“Look, I’m not trying to fuck you up or anything. You seemed nice and you’ve got a whole thing going on with school and shit and I’m just...I’m going to go, okay? This was stupid.” He was looking everywhere but at Marco but there was no hiding the rigid way he was standing and the fact his lips were pressed together so tightly that they’d become thin bloodless lines. It didn’t take an alpha sense of smell to be able to see that Jean was pissed. “Just forget about all of this.”

For one heart stopping moment Marco entertained the idea of just letting Jean leave and slinking back to the guest bedroom to hide out until he felt like driving home or to Ymir and Krista’s place for the night.

He dismissed it quickly; shocked and on the verge of losing it or not it really wasn’t in his nature to just let someone walk away from him if they were upset. Especially if he’d been the one doing the upsetting. 

And then there was the whole fucking  _ pregnancy _ element, and how he’d be letting someone claiming to be carrying his kid walk away which was a total dick move, to consider.

“Wait!” He reached out, catching Jean’s hand. He felt the other man go stiff and then Jean was glaring at him, eyes bright with the threat of violence. 

Which would have been a problem. For one Marco didn’t like to fight unless he had to and for two he really didn’t want to fight someone who was apparently pregnant. 

With his baby. 

His baby.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just kinda freaking out a little bit.” Jean snorted. “Or a lot. And maybe you could just give me a minute here to...not freak out?”    
And maybe to puke. 

Jean’s eyes narrowed and Marco was sure he was going to say no. And maybe punch him in the face. Instead he nodded stiffly. 

“Fine.” 

  
  
  



	4. Soon We'll Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking happens. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me such fits. I wrote and deleted it over and over before finally accepting that I just had to...well, accept it.

Jean hadn’t been all too sure about how the whole ‘by the way, knocked up with your kid’ revelation was going to go so he couldn’t really tell if it was going well or not. He hadn’t seen Marco asking if he was sure he was really the father coming, and he didn’t appreciate the question at all, like he would have shown up if he hadn’t been sure, but once the initial burst of anger abated he supposed he could see where it had come from. 

It wasn’t like Marco knew anything about him beyond that he’d willingly slept with him within an hour of meeting him. For all he knew it was the sort of thing Jean got up to all the time. Or, if Marco did know more, it had all come from Annie which meant there was no way it had painted him in a flattering light. He and Annie had grown up next door to each other and, even though she was a year ahead of him in school and nearly two years older, she’d always been his closest friend. He loved her like she was family, and often liked her more than his actual sister, and he knew his mother considered her a second daughter. He would have done anything she asked him without question and he knew the feeling was mutual. 

But she was a jerk and had never had a really nice word to say about anyone, except her girlfriend Mikasa, willingly. Which was fine because Jean was basically the same. It was part of why they’d stayed friends all these years. 

So it was doubtful Marco had heard any of his better traits. Hell, even if Marco had been told the very best things about him having someone he probably hadn’t had any real desire to see again show up claiming to be pregnant was probably pretty far from where he wanted his day to be going. 

Jean understood that completely; he didn’t want to be here, doing this. He didn’t want this to be happening, any of it. He was still reeling, trying to piece together how this could have happened in his head, and failing miserably at it. The paper he’d gotten from the clinic was in the pocket of his jeans, a constant reminder that he was willing to swear was starting to physically weigh him down. Which was stupid since it was only a piece of paper and yet it was more than that. 

Neither of them made a move to sit back down and, once he realized Marco was still holding his hand, Jean pulled away. Marco sighed then reached up and raked a hand through his hair, which was damp and clinging to his skin. Then turned and beelined for the kitchen. Unsure of what else he could do, Jean followed. The alpha fished two bottles of water out of the refrigerator then offered one to him. 

“Oh. Thanks.” It was cold to the touch and condensation started gathering as soon as he wrapped his fingers around it. He rolled it between his hands, watching the label shift and pull away from the bottle as it moved. 

Marco stood in front of him for a moment then shifted; Jean thought he was getting ready to say something but silence followed instead. The older man’s free hand curled into a fist then uncurled, fingers twitching. Jean could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy as if it had a physical presence, settling right over his lungs. He chanced a glance up to catch Marco staring at him, expression unreadable. 

He swallowed then moved away, brushing past the other man. He had no idea what he was supposed to say now. Everything was completely out of control, way too much for him to hope to grasp already. The knowledge that Marco was, apparently, on his way to med school had been enough to make his stomach turn and that sour taste that had been lingering in the back of his throat since that morning came back full force. 

His first impulse had been to turn tail and run; he wasn’t comfortable with the whole ‘surprise, we fucked up’ confession to begin with and hearing that Marco actually had his shit together had only made things worse. He didn’t want to be a burden or drag someone else down because of a mistake made after too many drinks; all he could think was that this was going to fuck up Marco’s life. 

He already had another life that wasn’t his own hinging on his choices. He didn’t think he could bare the weight of another. 

He didn’t even know the guy, aside from that he was cute and nice and so sweet that it should have been illegal. The way he’d acted after they’d had sex, so attentive, careful, and warm, had been completely outside of what Jean was used to. Not that his sexual history was made up of bad experiences or anything, he even had 2 semi-serious relationships under his belt that had been fine and ended on decent enough terms, just that no one had ever been so...caring after the fact. 

Or so focused on him during. 

Marco had acted like he was something important or precious and, as much as Jean didn’t need or even want that sort of thing really because he could take care of himself just fine, there was no denying that it had...nice. More than nice. 

He just...something about the idea of causing trouble for Marco just wasn’t sitting right.

He sat at the small kitchen table and, after a moment, Marco sat across from him, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Pregnant? Really?” 

Jean crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to make a face. He felt impatient already and he knew it wasn’t fair; he’d had some time to wrestle with the idea before even buying the pregnancy test but he’d just dumped it on the other man and it had to be a shock and yet…

How many times did he need to say it? 

Couldn’t they just move past the disbelief part and get to the important shit? 

“Yes, really.” 

“Fuck. You’re really...holy shit. That is, uh. How?” Marco looked like he wished he’d said something else as soon as it was out and he waved a hand as if dismissing the question. “I mean I know how.”

“Well that’s good.” Jean drawled, unable to stop himself “Since you were there and it’s about a month too late for the ‘birds and the bees’ talk now.” 

“Apparently.” Marco sarcastic tone didn’t match the way his cheeks flushed pink and he averted his eyes. “I just meant we used a condom, you weren’t in heat, and...you weren’t on anything?”

There was a brief moment where he considered lying, not wanting to explain that he was an idiot who wasn’t on birth control but had let a stranger fuck him less than a week out from his heat because he hadn’t known better. Not that he’d been completely stupid about it; he’d insisted on the condom hadn’t he?

For all the good that had done. 

“No.” He wasn’t a liar by nature and, gnawing feeling of shame aside, there wasn’t any point in starting now. The mistake was already made, he regretted it, and he was going to deal with it as best he could from now on. “I thought the condom would be enough. And I might have been closer to my heat than I thought mattered? Which was pretty fucking stupid of me and...I’m sorry.”

Sorry didn’t really begin to come close to what he needed to be saying here but fuck if he knew what to say. That he’d fucked up in a half dozen ways and now they both might have to pay for it? 

He knew that there were reasons alpha designed condoms existed and omega-beta issued ones were strongly recommended against. If an alpha popped a knot the OB condoms were prone to rolling down the knot or breaking. They also weren’t really made to be worn after a person got off but knotting kind of demanded staying in place for a while. 

Basically there were a lot of reasons not to do it and he’d ignored all of them. He could put the blame on alcohol and pre-heat and whatever weird effect being so close to an alpha had caused but the excuses seemed pretty flimsy after the fact. What did they mean, really, when he was already pregnant?  

He half expected Marco to yell or, at the very least, get upset but the alpha just looked at a point beyond him, a faraway look in his eyes. Jean licked his lips nervously, unsure if the look was some kind of calm before the storm or what. 

He didn’t get the ‘guy with a temper’ vibe (and Jean knew what a poorly suppressed temper looked like very personally since he possessed one) but then again it wasn’t like he really knew him. Being nice after sex didn’t necessarily mean nice overall. 

“There’s enough stupid to go around.” Marco said slowly. “I think we can agree we both were a little over eager and distracted.” 

“A little?” He could tell the other man was trying to make him feel better; it wasn’t working but it was a decent enough attempt. Marco’s laughter was warm and bright, filling the small apartment and Jean couldn’t stop the small grin that resulted from forming.

The moment was over as quickly as it happened and, once again, they were left staring at each other. Marco looked away, ducking his head. 

“I’m...I don’t know what to say.” The alpha admitted, a self deprecating smile curving his lips. “I asked you to wait and I don’t even have anything to say to you. This isn’t…I mean. This is not what I expected.” 

Jean smiled wanly. “Me either. I’ve known a few days...or. Well. I guess I sort of already knew, that’s why I took the test right? Anyway. I’m not sure I’m ‘there’ yet.” 

He cringed when he finished, very aware that he wasn’t make any sense. He wanted to tell Marco that it was okay to not know what to say or do because he didn’t either. He was drowning, falling apart and trying in vain to keep from breaking down yet again, barely able to wrap his brain around what was happening.  It didn’t matter that he knew it was true and that he needed to come to terms because deciding to continue the pregnancy meant that it was real and there was no way to undo it. He was opting into the ‘long term’ option and he needed to prepare for that but…

It still didn’t feel like it could really be happening.  

Instead of looking at him like he was crazy Marco nodded at him like he understood him completely. “You know I thought you were going to ask me out or something?” 

Jean arched an eyebrow. Ask him out? On a date? He hadn’t really thought about it before, content to let things remain as a particularly nice one (or two, if the shower counted) off. 

He let himself entertain the idea for all of a second (Marco was good looking, they’d gotten along well enough when they’d been drinking, and all the physical stuff had worked out just fine) then dismissed it as pointless. He doubted he’d be doing much, if any, dating in the near future and this was probably going to destroy any interest the alpha had in him. 

He was pretty sure unplanned pregnancy was really high up on the boner killer list. The best he could hope for, surely, was Marco wanting to be involved if he kept the baby. 

‘Best’ being a relative term. 

“Sorry to disappoint?” 

Marco flashed another tight smile then rubbed at his eyes, sighing quietly. There was another silence, somehow more awkward than the last, and Jean sank down in his chair a little bit, biting his lower lip.

“Do you...I mean have you…” He trailed off, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. “Have you thought about what you want to do?” 

Jean swallowed thickly, hands spasming convulsively around the water bottle. This part was inevitable, he’d known that already, and yet his mouth was unwilling to form the words he needed to say. He was sure, wasn’t he? 

Or as sure as he could be anyway. Terrified and confused and overwhelmed but he knew that he wasn’t ending the pregnancy. He’d already told his mother as much and had resolved to go through all of the information about having a baby and trying to figure out how he could finish his senior year once he was finished here. 

He knew what he wanted to do. 

Didn’t he?

“What do you think?” He could hear Ms. Ral telling him that, ultimately, it was his choice. He understood why that was; it was his body that would have to carry the pregnancy and he was the one who’d have to parent and rearrange his life. 

Marco could walk away if he wanted to, opt out of being anything more than financial support if Jean decided to pursue the issue, and it wasn’t like he could blame him if that’s how he felt. Who wanted to get stuck with a kid like this, with someone they didn’t even know? 

He wanted to know what Marco thought in spite of all of that. The part of him that had risen up as soon as he’d seen the alpha and was busy taking in every movement, every sound, every subtle shift of expression, the part that appreciated the way his bright honey scent mingled with whatever soap he had used that day, the part that was very much the omega and very interested...that part wanted Marco to want the same thing he wanted. 

Stupid. It was so stupid, but it was there anyway, out of his control like everything else about the situation. 

“Oh. Uh.” Marco raked a hand through his hair, nose wrinkling. “That...wow. I...I need to think? I guess. I wasn’t exactly prepared for this. Not that you were either, of course, and ultimately it has to be what you want to do...I am not helping at all, am I?” 

He paused, looking painfully unsure and apologetic, and exhaled slowly before continuing, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not...I haven’t thought about anything except school in what feels like forever. Graduation, getting into college and the pre-med program, then med school admissions and more school, residency, and...I don’t even really have friends because I don’t have time for other people. A kid is so far outside of my plan and I’m not sure-”

Jean’s heart stuttered and sank; he wanted to curse himself for feeling disappointed, for feeling anything at all about this. He couldn't expect things from Marco and he knew that. He’d watched his mother suffer through disappointment after disappointment with his sire and fuck this wasn’t anything like that at all but still. 

He knew better.

“I want to keep it. I  _ am  _ keeping it. Or...no abortion, at least.” 

Marco’s mouth shut with a click. Jean finally let go of his water, realizing belatedly that his fingers were ice cold. He rubbed them over his thighs in an attempt to chase away the chill and to give himself something to focus on other than Marco’s gobsmacked expression. It made his chest hurt. 

“You’re keeping it.” Marco’s voice went up a few octaves, cracking at the end. He cleared his throat and Jean could see him pushing away from the table from the corner of his eyes. ‘Okay. That’s...um. Good?”  

Jean picked at his pants, refusing to watch as Marco started pacing around the small kitchen, and forced himself to keep his voice even as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to do anything if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to be around or...whatever. I just...telling you is the right thing to do so that’s what I’m doing, and now you know. Don’t think I’m trying to demand something from you because I won’t.” 

He was sure he would be fine. His mom had managed to raise two children completely alone so he was confident he would be able to raise one with her help. They’d been fine without his sire being involved and the same could be true in this situation. 

He didn’t need anyone except his family if it came down to it. 

“Wait, what?” Jean looked up at the incredulous tone. Marco had stopped pacing and was looking at him like he’d said something he couldn’t comprehend. “What are you saying?” 

He hesitated, not sure what to make of the face the alpha was making. “It’s...you have a whole life already and it’s not like this is something you got a chance to sign up for so if you didn’t want to be involved I’m not going to make you.”

Marco’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to be involved.”

“It sounds like that’s what you were trying to say.” He said, bristling at the offended tone. “I’m just saying you don’t have to change your  _ plan  _ for this.”  

“That isn’t what I was saying at all. I’m still processing here. Trying to anyway. Doing a bad job, probably, but hearing that I’m going to be a father is a lot to take in.”

Jean’s breath caught at ‘father’. It was the reality of the matter, an idea he needed to get used to because that was what was happening, but his stomach dropped hard in spite of that. He was going to be a father. 

He was going to have a baby. 

He was going to be sick.

He jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, the acrid taste of bile on the back of his tongue as a heavy feeling pushed insistently up his throat. He made it in time to hunch over the toilet and retch, throat and eyes burning. He heard footsteps but ignored them in favor of emptying his stomach in throat tearing coughs. 

What a great time to be sick. 

A hand touched his back, warm and heavy between his shoulder blades, and then rested there until there was nothing left but disgusting tasting spit in the back of his throat. He straightened up, grimacing at the bitterness clinging to his tongue, and squinted blearily as his abandoned bottle of water was held out to him. 

“Thanks.” 

Marco nodded then moved around him to turn on the sink. Jean watched him pull a washcloth out from under the sink as he opened up the bottle. The first mouthful was swished around in an attempt to chase the grossness away then spit into the toilet, which he promptly flushed after. The rest he drank and when he was done a damp washcloth was offered to him. 

He was taking it from Marco when the sound of a door opening and familiar voices chattering loudly had them both turning and looking towards the hallway. Jean’s heart leapt as he looked around the bathroom, panicked. 

He wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet and he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain away both of them being in the bathroom together, him with gross puke breath. 

Marco took him by the wrist and, after peeking out of the bathroom, dragged him across the hallway to what Jean knew was the guest bedroom. The door was shut behind them; it wasn’t particularly loud but the voices out in the main room stopped anyway. There was laughter, a mixture of Annie and Mikasa, and then they were talking again. 

“You need a new shirt.” Marco said as he moved around him towards an open duffelbag sitting on top of the neatly made bed. 

Jean glanced down at his t-shirt and grimaced. “Thanks. Again.” 

“It’s fine.” Marco said as he rummaged around in his bag. “Any vomiting is half my fault anyway, right?”

“Um.” Jean said for lack of any real response. He wasn’t really in a joking mode after all of this. He was just...tired and kind of gross. 

Marco went still for a moment then turned to face him, expression deadly serious. “I was going to say I don’t know that I’m sire material, considering all of that, but if you wanted to keep the baby I would do what I could to be there. Not that I think you shouldn’t have the baby or that I didn’t want to be involved.”

Jean was torn between being embarrassed and a sort of primal sense of satisfaction. His alpha ( _ not his alpha _ ) was saying he accepted their child and the part of him that was all omega was nearly purring in happiness. He itched to get closer, to wrap his arms around Marco until their scents were mingled and...

Something. 

Dumb things that he wasn't going to do. 

“And I basically watched you puke so you can’t doubt my dedication either.” Marco added, attention returning to his bag. “If this is happening you’re stuck with me.” 

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and decided to go with being embarrassed; the other feelings were more than he wanted to deal with. “Before you decide to make any promises I should let you know now that I have a tendency to not hear people out and to assume things.”

And to start fights over the things he’d assumed. (Something he was going to have to stop doing now that he thought about it.) 

“I’m shocked to hear that.” Marco’s said dryly.

Jean couldn’t help but notice that he he didn’t look all that shocked.

Marco tossed him a sweater; it was long sleeved, pale blue, and incredibly soft. And it smelled faintly like the other man. There was an odd impulse to bring it closer and breathe the scent in. He didn’t do it and steadfastly didn’t think about what wanting to do so might mean. 

He had a feeling he was going to be not thinking about and ignoring things a lot in the future. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Marco is pretty sure ‘Not ready to tell anyone’ doesn’t include Ymir and Krista. Jean would probably disagree.  
> *squints* I hate this. I debated drawing out Marco’s reaction/acceptance more but in the end I think he’s more of a ‘This is happening, I’m freaking out, I’m going to have a kid and actually that’s kind of amazing in a terrifying kind of way’ person. But we'll get more of his PoV in the next chapter so I'm going to stop talking about it and just show it to you then.


	5. Find a Way To Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is a ball of anxiety. Krista and Ymir help. ...kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read this lately (as in since May23d) you're going to want to at least skim things. Editing has happened and, while the plot is untouched, some details (ages and dates and friendship statuses) have changed.

Marco was a fairly intelligent guy. It wasn’t the sort of thing he ran around making sure people knew or, even, put a whole lot of stock in. He did well in school settings, managing to be ranked in the top ten in all of his classes more or less his entire life. He was good at studying and memorizing things, which wasn’t always as useful in application as he would have liked but did help him in school. He did his best work when he could take a moment to sort things out and make them make sense in his head then confirm what he thought with sources and references.

So when confronted with the fact he’d managed to get his one night stand pregnant he did what came naturally and bought some books. 

Well, if he was being specific, he’d sat with Jean a little while longer, trying to parse what came next and seriously considering just crying or giving up on life when Jean had mentioned he had just started his senior year too, then he’d endured Mikasa and Annie’s teasing with a smile after Jean had left (they were under the assumption that there had been some kind of quickie sex thing that had gone down and he hadn’t done anything to disavow them of that idea.), slunk back to the guest room after claiming he had a headache, hyperventilated, and then left Ymir a frantic more or less nonsensical voicemail. She was at the shop for at least another hour, though Krista would probably be showing up soon, so that was just enough time to continue falling apart and then drag himself back into a semi presentable state. 

And then curled up in bed with the blankets pulled over his head and freaked out some more. He felt like crying and screaming and curling up and never leaving Annie’s guest room ever again. He felt like he was suffocating and not just from being burrowed under the covers but because he felt like something heavy had settled in the middle of his chest. Just trying to breathe felt like a chore. 

He had an idle terrifying thought to the effect of ‘if I can’t deal with this what kind of parent could I possibly be’ and it just made him want to burrow deeper under the blanket.  

It wasn’t the most mature thing to do he supposed, probably not what someone a few months away from being a f _ ather _ should have been doing, but he wasn’t exactly in the best situation and he didn’t have any handy guides on the appropriate reaction to surprise teenage pregnancy so he was just playing it by ear and his ‘ear’ said he wanted to fucking cry. 

Panicking just seemed like the thing to do now that he was alone and able to do so without upsetting Jean. He had fucked up and not in a small way that could be fixed or easily smoothed over. No, he’d fucked up in what was probably the biggest way a person could. 

It wasn’t just his life that was going to be changed or just Jean’s. There was going to be a whole new person because of what had happened and if that wasn’t worthy of curling up and shunning the world for a little bit he didn’t know what was.   

He’d pushed down the panic to deal with Jean because that’s what he’d needed to do in the moment to keep the other man from walking out. He would keep doing just that for as long as he needed to, until he’d stopped feeling like was about to be sick or pass out, so they could make whatever they need to work work but he figured it was okay to hide out and feel like he’d fallen down the rabbit hole on his personal time. 

Which he absolutely had. He’d started out thinking maybe he was going to get laid again or if he was really lucky that a date or two along with getting laid was on the table. He’d been, naively, looking forward to seeing the omega who’d gotten him all twisted up and distracted but, instead, he’d had life changing information dumped on him and hadn’t exactly been given a lot of time to come to terms with it. 

Jean had flowed right from ‘here’s the situation’ to ‘this is what I’m doing’ right to making it clear he had absolutely no problem doing what needed to be done without Marco. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen going forward but he knew he wasn’t okay with the idea of someone,  _ of Jean _ , having his child and him not being involved. 

He knew, just like he knew anything else about himself, that it wasn’t something he would have been able to live with or ever feel good about. Even hearing Jean suggest that he might choose to walk away from his own child had made him feel a little sick.

He wasn’t that kind of person. 

Telling Jean that he would be ‘stuck with him’ had been the only part of the conversation that hadn’t made him want to slam his head on the table in complete frustration. If this was happening, and he didn’t know why he was thinking ‘if’ when it was so clearly happening, then he had to step up. He just...he couldn’t let someone raise his child while he did hid and did nothing. 

He could never do something like that.

Not that Jean had said he was raising the baby. He’d stressed that he didn’t want to terminate but that he wasn’t sure about adoption vs keeping it beyond that. He had been given a lot of information to look at when he’d visited the clinic that he still needed to look at; Marco had suggested that maybe doing it together would be a good idea so they’d agreed to meet up to do just that.

Not exactly the sort of date he’d been envisioning but something that needed to be done. He’d always liked having as much information as he could avaliable before he made any sort of choice and it seemed more important than ever that he knew everything there was to know.

Which was how he’d ended up buying some books. It actually helped him to focus on a task; the queasy feeling in his stomach receded some and the need to scream until his throat was raw went along with it. He read reviews and a few articles about which book were considered ‘best’ and, by the time he was purchasing them to his phone he was sitting up and breathing normally, blankets hanging around his shoulders. 

The ones he settled on after some careful consideration,  _ An Omega’s Guide To Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Childbirth, and The Newborn _ , and  _ An Expectant Sire’s Bible, _ were downloading onto his phone when someone knocked on the door softly. 

“Marco?” Krista called from the other side of the door. “You awake?”

“Yeah, come in.”

She was smiling softly when she walked into the room but Marco could read the worry in her eyes. Krista wasn't exactly good at hiding her emotions; he’d always thought it sort of endearing how open and honest her expressions were.  Now however he just felt a pang of guilt because she was concerned on his behalf and because he was relieved to see her. 

It was, probably, a little weird to want to spill all of his troubles to his sister’s girlfriend but Krista...she was just the sort of person who made you want to get things off your chest. The quiet way she listened and always offered up genuine acceptance just pulled the truth put of people, or at least out of him, but he'd never once regretted confiding in her about things. 

She gestured towards the door and, when he nodded, nudged it shut before walking over to him. He shifted to the side to make room for her on the bed next to him. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiled again then plucked at the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. “You okay? Annie said you weren't feeling well and Ymir left me a message about you maybe throwing yourself off the roof.”

He was almost positive he hadn't said anything that extreme in his voicemail, and Ymir had a tendency towards being needlessly dramatic when she was so inclined, so he snorted and shook his head slightly. 

“I'm fine, just...you know. Today is not going how expected it to.”

To say the absolute least of the matter.

She hummed then bumped him gently with her shoulder. “So? What's going on?” 

He tightened his grip on his phone for a moment, eyes flicking down to the dark screen. Jean had been very clear about not wanting ‘people’ to know he was pregnant yet and Marco had no problem with that...mostly. Krista and Ymir weren't just ‘people’ though, they were his family and closest friends and...he needed someone to hear him right now. 

If not them then who else did he have? 

“The guy from the party? Jean?” She nodded her understanding. “He...well. He was looking for me, and I guess he's a friend of Annie's or something because he called and then came over-

He was rambling, drawing it out for no good reason because the relatively simple words he needed to speak just weren't coming out. He stopped, eyes still on his phone, and made himself breath. 

It was going to be a long 8 months if he couldn’t even make himself explain the situation to someone. Was it too late to back out? 

Yeah. Yeah it was. 

“He's pregnant.”

He expected something; shock, disbelief, maybe even laughter, or something like that. What he got was complete silence. He couldn't even hear her breathing and, when he risked looking at Krista out of the corner of his eye, he found her eyes as wide as saucers, all the blood drained from her face, and it looked like she was holding her breath. Then she exhaled loudly, shoulders dropping and brows knitting together. She still didn’t say anything. 

It got uncomfortable fast and he found himself squirming away under her gaze. More words bubbled up and out without his say so. “And he’s going to have the baby and I told him I’d do...I don’t know, whatever people do when they get people they don’t know pregnant so we’re going to  _ talk _ about things sometime this week but I don’t know what the hell I’m suppose to say or do or...we’re both in high school, Krista.” 

Both seniors but still. High school. What the hell could two high schoolers who lived with (he presumed in Jean’s case) their parents possibly do with or for a baby? And fine, Jean didn’t know if he wanted to keep it but what if he did? Marco worked a few days a week at his mothers’ clinic, when he had the time and they needed someone to work the desk or clean, so he sure as hell didn’t have any money and he knew babies required money. Lots of it. 

And time, something he was usually pretty strapped for most of the time, and for someone to care for them and not be irresponsible idiots who got drunk and completely lost themselves in horny alpha instincts. 

He was feeling the edge of panic and no small amount of fear coming back but, before it could take hold, he had arms wrapped around him. She tugged him down until his head was pressed against against her shoulder. It was awkward for a moment, their height difference making it so that even when sitting he had to bend to close the gap, but the feeling passed. Her small hands were pressed against his back to rub small soothing circles and her scent was comforting mix of florals and something that registered to him as ‘Ymir’ and ‘Family’. 

\---

The time until they left Annie’s to head to Ymir and Krista’s house absolutely crawled by. He did his best to act normally but Jean was never far from his mind. Krista sat close to him, occasionally brushing a hand over his own and offering him comforting smiles. He’d expected Ymir to demand an explanation for the voicemail he’d left her but she was oddly subdued all evening.

Krista must have told her he didn’t want to talk about it yet. 

She even waited until they were in the house and sitting at the kitchen table, Krista at the stove and heating up water for tea, before asking him what was going on. He explained it all, let it all tumble free for her, then waited for her reaction. 

“Wow.” She said as she peered down into the mug Krista had set in front of her. “You fucked up.” Krista hissed Ymir’s name urgently but his sister just shrugged. “He did!”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Thank you, I hadn’t noticed.” 

Ymir made a face that was half grimace and half smile then shook her head. “Jesus Marco. How the fuck did that happen?” 

Huh. Now that he was hearing someone else ask it he could in fact confirm that ‘How?’ was a really stupid question. Also awkward and he wasn’t really sure himself. Broken condom seemed likely and, when he tried to peer through the hazy curtain alcohol had draped over that night, he thought maybe…that he couldn’t remember at all. He remembered taking it off and being sort of grossed out because everything had ended up so messy with the knotting and  _ fluids. _

He thought maybe he’d just told himself that the ‘outside the condom’ mess must have been from Jean or, really, hadn’t thought about it properly at all. He’d been occupied with wanting to get Jean into the shower, keeping a lid on his instincts, and maybe floating in their mixed scents a little bit. 

The point was something had gone wrong and he didn’t want to get into it with his older sister. 

“You want to talk about me having sex in your basement?” 

“Ugh.” Ymir’s lip curled in disgust. “That is not what I meant and you know it. I always thought you were too smart for this kind of thing.”

He pushed his mug around moodily. “Guess not.” 

Her face said ‘duh’ but she moved on from that, thankfully. “So. You knocked some kid up. Seriously?” 

“He isn’t a ‘kid’.” He wasn’t even going to acknowledge her question; it seemed rhetorical and, anyway, why would he say anything if he weren’t totally serious? Did he look like he was having fun with this too her?  

“You’re both kids.” Krista said softly as she joined them at the table, curling up on the bench at Ymir’s side. Ymir nodded in agreement and the curl of anger that had flared in his gut at her words was snuffed out. 

They _ were _ both kids. 

“And he’s definitely going through with the pregnancy thing? For sure?” 

“That’s what he said.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, musing the usually neat dark brown strands. “Shit. I...congrats? Should I buy you a gift? Diapers?” 

“Please don’t. And it’s not...adoption is still an option.” 

“Adoption. Do you,” Ymir’s visibly hesitated as her eyes darted down to look at Krista who rolled her eyes. 

“You can talk about adoption around me.” 

Ymir’s arm snaked around Krista and hauled her a little closer. “I know that. I just don’t want...I don’t know. If it was me? My kid? I don’t know if I could.” 

There was a beat, the two women staring at each other with careful and serious expressions, and Marco got the feeling that maybe he was intruding on a private moment. He’d already known Krista was adopted, it had come up once over the holidays when Ymir had mentioned how Krista didn’t look anything like the Lenzs, a tall olive skinned pair, but it wasn’t something he’d really thought about. She was happy, her parents were good people; there wasn’t anything else to it as far as he could tell.

But now he was thinking about it, wondering. Could he agree to give his baby to someone else? He couldn’t even begin to envision doing that but, then again, what if that was the best option? If there was a family like the Lenzs out there, stable and loving, could he?

And what about Krista? Was she happy? Did she wonder about her birth parents? Did she wish-

“I don’t think,” Krista said finally. “That you can really know until it happens. And I don’t think it comes easy at all and I don’t think you’re going to figure it out tonight. Or alone.” 

She was right (again). He couldn’t envision giving up a baby but he also couldn’t imagine raising one. He wasn’t even completely sure he wasn’t in the middle of a really detailed and really insane dream. 

“Do you need a lawyer?” Ymir leaned across the table and grasped his hands tightly, expression deadly serious. “Can you afford a lawyer? There are some people who owe me money so if you need help I can work something out.” 

“Honestly Ymir.” Krista muttered. 

Marco blinked, startled at his sister willingly making contact with him when one of them wasn’t at risk for losing a limb or about to go away for an extended period of time, (and also at the idea that someone would be stupid enough to put themselves in a position where they owed Ymir anything) then started to shake his head.

“A lawyer for what?”

“Adoption things? Custody stuff?” She shrugged. “Child support stuff? Unless you’re going to marry him. Are you going to marry him?”

Marco nearly jerked his hands free in shock. “What? Am I...No!” Then, squinting at her because honestly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him but...was that the right thing to do? No, it couldn’t be. They didn’t even know each other and it wasn’t like they were dating and this had happened. It wasn’t like they were going to start dating. At this point he would feel pretty damn lucky if Jean didn’t even up hating him and they ended up being friends. 

So no, marriage was an awful idea. Right? 

“Should I?”

“NO!” Krista said sharpy, glowering up at Ymir as she spoke. “You don’t even know if he’s keeping it, for starters, and even if he is lots of people have kids without getting married or mating.” 

He huffed out a relieved breath. “You’re right.”

“I usually am.” 

Ymir pulled her hands back with a sigh. “Yeah, okay, no one is getting married, right…Are you going to...get together? I mean, you know. Try out the family thing?” 

Krista made an exasperated noise. “Sometimes it’s like talking to a wall.” 

“I’m just getting him ready for our mothers. They’re going to want to know all that and more.” Ymir said then turned sharp eyes onto him when he let out a pained groan. “You haven’t told the moms yet have you?” 

Marco closed his eyes at the mention of their mothers. Not that they didn’t get along well because they did (better than Ymir and their mothers did at least which, admittedly, was a pretty low bar) but their carrier had practically invented disappointed silence and neither parent was all that great at not being judgemental. 

The last time Ymir had been home their sire had named Krista as the only worthwhile thing she’d managed in her life and things like that weren’t nearly as uncommon as Marco would have liked. The worst part was that their mothers didn’t mean to be hurtful, they just thought Ymir could do better than painting and learning to do tattoo work and went about expressing it in the most awful ways possible.  

Ymir strongly disagreed with their opinions. 

After years of playing peacekeeper he was exhausted with all family interaction, even with Krista and Annie helping keep things ‘calm’ these days. He wasn’t all that interested in adding ‘accidental baby with someone he barely knew’ to the list of things his parents were disappointed by and he doubted anyone could blame him for that. 

And then there was introducing Jean to his parents. He hadn’t brought home a date since tenth grade; partially because he was a lonely cat guy sans the cats and partially because subjecting people to Dr. and Mrs. Bott wasn’t a good way to start burying a relationship.  

“I thought I would wait a little bit. High school graduation maybe?” He cracked open an eye. “The baby’s, not mine.” 

Ymir beamed, suddenly delighted. “Can I video it when you do? I need the moment you become the bigger fuck up recorded for future generations. Which, I guess, are coming sooner than any of us expected.” 

Marco slumped forward, letting his head thump against the table. He had figured it was going to go something like this but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. He didn’t need to be mocked he needed...he didn’t know what the fuck he needed. A drink? 

No, he was never drinking again, so scratch that. 

“Look, Marco,” Ymir’s hand touched the top of his head in a surprisingly gentle gesture. “This is going to be fine. You’re smart, you know, and you aren’t the first person to end up with a kid like this.” 

He wasn’t sure he would really call that comforting coming from anyone else but from Ymir it was basically a really profound pep-talk. He loved his sister, of course, but her bedside manner had always left something to be desired. Until she’d met Krista had hadn’t been all that sure she was capable of anything aside from thinking of herself and antagonizing their parents. (In hindsight he realized he’d seen a lot of things through ‘jealous that Ymir has all the attention’ eyes and that his sister had, maybe, always had the softer part she so readily showed Krista inside of her.) But, caring or not, she’d never been all that good at showing it. She liked to play things, and especially her feelings, close to the chest when she could. 

“Ymir is right. You’ll work it out, I just know it.” Krista added. “And you don’t have to stress out about every little thing right now. One choice at a time, like everyone else does.”

“You’re going to get together and talk soon right?” Ymir’s fingers carded through his hair absently. “Have him come here. I want to meet the kid carrying my niece or nephew.” 

“No.” He mumbled into the table top.

“I’ll be nice.” 

She would not. “You don’t know how to be nice.” 

“I’m always nice to family.” She flicked him for emphasis, seemingly oblivious to how he jumped at the word ‘family’. “...mostly.” 

“Get some sleep.” Krista said. “It’s late and I’m sure you need it.” 

He nodded and, after dumping the tea he’d never actually touched, headed for the basement. He needed to call his parents and let them know he was alive and staying at Ymir’s for the night and he had some math homework to finish up and there were those books he hadn’t gotten a chance to look at yet and a lot to think about. 

Ymir’s words, in particular, stuck with him. 

Family? Jean wasn’t...or.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT AN UPDATE THOUGH! It's been 84 years.


End file.
